My child My child edited

Umbra swims in murky waters

old castles crumble

beneath the grime.

Silent cries

fill the night—

birds in motion,

though they do not fly—

caged and imprisoned

where invisible bars collide.

Demon tongues chide,

while ballads and ditties embrace.

Vespers whisper:

O Creator Divine,

hear my cry—

Come save us now

from this

storm of mine.

By: Bernice Bowling